Steamboats on the Missouri River were constantly zigging and zagging between the two shores because of the ever-changing sandbars which formed in the “old muddy.”  These innumerable sandbars, especially when the water was low, caused the new comer to the river exclaim, “How much dry land there is in this river!”

The steamboat was an important element in the development of the west.  The first steamboat to come into South Dakota was the Yellowstone which was built especially for the Missouri River.  It was a flat bottomed boat which drew only three feet of water.

It reached Fort Pierre in June of 1831, and this resulted in the complete revolution of the fur trade along the river.  Later, the expansion of trade and the discovery of gold in Montana resulted in these boats passing the river landings three or more times a week.

Fort Randall had been built in 1857 and this necessitated a military road from Sioux City to the fort along the east side of the river.  The Sioux, Vermillion, and James Rivers were ferried for several years.

In 1865 the government provided for the substantial improvement of this road.  Bridges were built at Sioux City, Vermillion, and the James River.  As the upper forts were built, this military road was extended up the river to Fort Berthold and beyond.

When D. C. Poole reached Sioux City in 1869, his problems were just beginning.  He first had to decide if he would travel from Sioux City to the mouth of Whetstone Creek via stage or steamboat.  For each individual he asked, he got conflicting answers.

He finally decided that the stage was the most reliable mode for reaching Yankton, the capital city of Dakota Territory.  He had made arrangements to be wakened at three A. M., and with much yawing and stretching, he prepared himself for the day’s travel.

The stage which was sometimes referred to as the “mud wagon,” finally made its appearance at the St. Elmo Hotel after rounding up some stray passengers in various parts of Sioux City.  Poole realized he was lucky to obtain a seat inside the coach.  At least he didn’t have to ride up on top with the baggage or next to the driver.

The stage usually accommodated four passengers inside and one outside with the driver; however, anywhere from six to ten passengers usually presented themselves to be wedged into the seats and occupy the limited space as best they could.  The driver left it up to the passengers to jam and crowd each other to their hearts’ content, while he impassively nodded in his seat up on and top shouted “All right!” which set the stage in motion.  With that command, Poole was on his way to his agency post at the Whetstone Agency on the Missouri River.

Although they could hardly move any part of their body, the passengers began to wriggle and squirm, draw in one foot and shove out another.  Finally, with elbows bound and sullen looks, they settled down to a morning ride in silence.  Breakfast would not be served until they had traveled fifteen miles and who wants to talk before coffee?

Solidly packed inside with several on top, they swayed from side to side and collided with each other in unison with the stage as it swayed back and forth and side to side as they headed west.  The head and neck moving on their shoulders was the only indication that they were alive.

After a short time, they suddenly stopped and the driver shouts “Mail” as he throws down a leather bag near the door of a dwelling along the side of the road.  An easy-going individual emerges from the primitive shelter and disappears with the mail bag.

The driver is down from his seat, the horses are watered, the passengers twist their necks a little more than usual, until someone explains, “Mail station; half way to breakfast,” and then solemn silence again.  The mail bag is returned, the driver is once more in his seat, and they are again headed west.

Even after much napping and nodding they were totally exhausted when they made another stop.  It was here that they had a change of horses, and, at last, breakfast.

Those recent arrivals to the area looked around for washing facilities.  They usually found a tin basin sitting on a bench outside the shelter, water to be dipped from a barrel close at hand and a common towel which had to be carefully studied to find a dry spot or one which had not done too much previous duty.

Breakfast was announced, and, without the least sign of ceremony, each passenger hurries to a table and eagerly scans the different dishes.  Some of which is transferred to their plate and dispatched with no show of proper etiquette.  Muddy coffee, fried pork and potatoes, and bread and butter were the only items on the menu.

After breakfast, fresh horses were hitched to the stage, the passengers repackaged, each slyly striving to secure more room to the detriment of their neighbor.  Once again they were  on the road headed west to their “Eldorado.”

Those traveling by stage from Sioux City to the Whetstone Agency in 1869 would experience what for many of them was to be the most unfavorable and unpleasant torture imaginable!

 

Author Clarence Shoemaker, originally published in the Gregory Times-Advocate on July 31, 2024